


The Mortal Next Door

by deviantmonroe



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Vampires, originally posted on dA
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviantmonroe/pseuds/deviantmonroe
Summary: For four years, Frank has lived next to a vampire. But more importantly he lives next to a vampire that he’s begun to fall in love with. When Gerard begins to reveal more about his past to Frank though, will that love remain?
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	The Mortal Next Door

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my dA in like 2011. So it's obviously terrible and unedited and I am a masochist for posting this here, but here ya go ya heathens. Eat up while the pickins are good, because if I ever write another chapter to this, it'll only be downhill from here.

There was a small sketchbook propped against Frank's apartment door when he arrived home from work. At first, he was puzzled to see the innocuous item lying there on his doorstep. He was pretty sure that it hadn't been there when he left for work that morning, or when he'd left from his apartment on his lunch break. But there it was, leaning exhaustedly against the mahogany wood door as if it had been waiting a small eternity for him to finally arrive.

For a moment, Frank stood still in the hallway, staring distantly at the door and book. A thousand thoughts were swirling around in his mind, one after another chasing the next with all the countless possibilities of what this could mean, although there was one that kept bouncing back up.

The notion that maybe this had to do with Gerard.

The almost silent creak of a door opening behind Frank startled him out of his thoughts. He paused for a moment, then bent down and scooped up the book before turning around. Just as he had already assumed, the door to the apartment across the hall from his had creaked open just a fraction of an inch. It hadn't been open for two weeks and now here it was open and beckoning to Frank.

"Are you coming in or not," a voice called out from the other side of the door. Frank jumped slightly at the sudden invitation. The voice had been sudden, but familiar and he knew now for sure where the sketchbook had come from. He hesitated a moment longer before quietly slipping into the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

The apartment was mostly dark with the only light source coming from a few scattered groups of tiny votive and pillar candles throughout the living room. There was utter silence in the room and it was only then that Frank could hear the distant sound of thunder. It had been another dreary and rainy New Jersey day, with storms threatening to overcome the long night ahead. It was only when he was in this house that he noticed how noisy his life was; especially at the bustling coffee shop where he worked weekdays to pay the bills. It wasn't much money but it got the job done and left him with a little extra.

"Where is he?" Frank muttered to himself as he moved through the eerie silence like passing through walls of soft cold sand. It was oddly comforting to him, this kind of silence. It was utter and complete and the main sound that he had now come to associate with Gerard.

Gerard had moved into the apartment across from Frank's four years ago. And while Frank didn't know everything about the mysterious man living next door to him, he did know one very important fact; that his charming and mostly quiet neighbor is a vampire. Well, there was that, and the sneaking suspicion that Gerard was madly in love with him. Frank just simply lacked the evidence to prove it that latter point.

Even though, in his own way, he was reluctant to admit it out loud, Frank was in love with Gerard, also. But he wasn't ready to rush into things. It sounded kind of silly, but there were actually few things that Frank knew about the real Gerard. Like the fact that he had a younger brother, who was also a vampire, that Frank had happened to meet suddenly just over two weeks ago. He still remembered the sudden meeting right outside of the apartment complex.

That was the main reason why the door had been closed to him for a period of time. After Gerard's visit with his brother, he had locked himself into his apartment and had not answered it until now.

When Frank had met Gerard, the circumstances had been less than formal. In fact, Frank had not met him when he'd moved in, but the night before while Frank had been walking home from work. No matter what he tried, Frank couldn't shake the memory of that night from his mind. There had been blood, Gerard standing in an alley, and the taste of fear in Frank's mouth as he'd scurried away from the scene. Only latter would he find out when he got home, that the being he had just witnessed drinking the blood of another person was now his neighbor.

"Gerard?" Frank headed to the stairs that lead up to Gerard's bedroom, the sketchbook clutched to his side much like a life preserver. While Gerard was a gentle soul, he could also be rather unpredictable; especially if he was hungry or in a bad mood.

The stairs creaked softly beneath Frank's feet as he slowly ascended. Upstairs there had been more candles lit, including some small votives along the stairs banister. Gerard's place wasn't much bigger than Frank's was, since all of the apartments were pretty much the same size, with slight differences in the order the rooms were built. Gerard's apartment however was a two bedroom, which now Frank figured had been for his brother. He'd just meet Mikey a little over two weeks ago, and while he thought he was an okay guy, there seemed to be something off with the youngest Way.

While Frank had been standing in the middle of the hallway pondering, Gerard had deftly snuck up behind him. For a moment, he studied Frank intently. The first thing he noticed was how long the mortal's hair was getting. It already reached down to Frank's shoulders, and it never failed to make Gerard smile. He was beginning to love Frank's hair long. Without hesitation, Gerard reached out, sinking his fingers into the dark strands.

Frank jumped and whirled around, startled by the sudden sensation of long fingers tangling themselves gently through his hair. Gerard smiled softly at him, the corners of his mouth curling into an almost smirk at the same time. Frank swore softly and tried to calm down the frantic racing of his heart.

"Jesus, Gerard. Scare the hell out of me why don't you?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. I figured you were still downstairs. I had to run up and change, been painting all day long." Gerard slowly lowered his hand down to Frank's multi-colored arm, where he could feel his pulse thundering loudly. It sent a sharp thrill down Gerard's spine to know that he had caused that.

Frank shifted from one foot to the other restlessly. Even in the unusual darkness he could see Gerard's face clearly. His face was pale at the best of times but now he was shockingly white. And that only meant one thing; that he hadn't fed in a while.

"It's only been a few days, don't worry," Gerard said, reading Frank's thoughts.

"How long has it really been, Gerard? You've been locked up in here since Mikey left two weeks ago."

Gerard smiled at Frank's obvious concern. It amused him that Frank found this information more concerning than frightening. He could remember a time when mortals had shrank away from him in fear of his hunger. And yet here was Frank looking like a distressed mother hen over him not eating.

"It's only been three nights," he reassured Frank softly. He had just now noticed the obvious weariness in the shorter man's brown eyes. "And exactly how long has it been since you last slept?"

Frank quickly tore his eyes away from Gerard's. He knew if he kept eye contact, that Gerard could easily read his thoughts. Not that Gerard really needed to, the evidence was clear to see all over Frank's face. He looked like a Mack truck had hit him going a hundred miles an hour.

"I just had a rough day at work is all. My boss was all over my ass half the day."

Gerard wasn't buying a single line of bullshit that Frank was selling him. He knew better. Frank could talk himself out of a diamond box at the best of times and was a master of beating around bushes at the worst.

"Mhm. How about this, I'll go hunt and you'll go sleep and we'll discuss this in the morning." Gerard gently pulled Frank by the arm, leading him into the bedroom closest that served as the spare bedroom. Before Frank could struggle or protest, Gerard had shoved him into the room, and locked it from the outside with a chair that normally sat in the hallway.

"Damn it, Gerard!" Frank swore and beat on the door from the other side. "I've got to go to work in the morning you know!"

Gerard smiled and rapped on the door with a knuckle, "No you don't. I already checked your schedule earlier tonight before you left work. You were so busy napping on your smoke break from depriving yourself of sleep so much that you didn't even notice. That's why your boss was bitching at you."

Frank's swearing chased Gerard out the front door and into the night. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of Frank on the other side fuming and cursing. The room would probably be destroyed by the time Gerard got back home.

As he stepped into the sharp Jersey night, Gerard was reminded of why this city had appealed to him in the first place. It reminded him of home, of Italy and the streets that were filled with as much beauty as they were of violence. He had walked these streets when they were still young. New Jersey hadn't changed much since its colonization, but there were plenty of things that had changed about the beings that roamed its streets.

Vampires weren't the only beings that now held dominion over parts of Jersey, or even the states as a whole. Louisiana had been his first home when the colonies were beginning to build themselves up and thrive. He'd even owned a small plantation on a few acres of land with his brother Mikey for a few years. But eventually Mikey had begun to miss the lure of Italy, and to temporarily appease his brother and still indulge his own sense of exploration and adventure, they'd moved to New Jersey. Eventually though, they went back to Venice and Florence and home.

But now Gerard was back in the city that had enchanted him from the very first second that he'd stepped on its soil. In the 21st century, the city had blossomed. Even now at nearly midnight, the atmosphere was rich and alive with the bustling night life. Clubs poured music out onto the streets at the feet of the gangsters and prostitutes like the waves of the ocean. Coffee shops were open nearly all night here, and there were many places to go and explore.

His favorite was probably the bookstore named after the old book keep Mason Erikson. It was the only place other than the clubs and few restaurants that stayed open late enough for him, while still giving him the obvious cover from mortals that he needed. The shop was dimly lit with a few faded light bulbs and the scattered odd candle. Erikson's was his favorite getaway and the elderly man was even nice enough to make him a coffee while Gerard sat and read, watching the clubbers through the large front window. Gerard would idly read a book while sipping his coffee and chattering on about mundane things with Mason while waiting for the choice prey to stagger drunken from the club.

It felt almost like being in Venice again.

Although tonight Gerard was no more hungry than he was alive, he had told Frank that he would, and he always kept his promises, especially to Frank.

Mason greeted him at the door with a chipped coffee mug and a small stack of books. The man was in his early eighties, and his health was fading fast. Gerard was always reminded of life's frailty and his own immortality when he saw the hunched over man. He would die soon, and while Gerard didn't want to see him go, he knew from reading the man's memories that it was for the best. He'd lost seven children, his wife, and his wealth to alcohol and the violence of Jersey's streets. Now the only thing that Mason had to live for was the nightly visits from Gerard and his few other patrons and the store itself, which had been run by him and his wife for fifty years.

"You don't look so well, young man. You don't have that swine flu do you?" Mason questioned Gerard as soon as he'd settled into his usual seat. Gerard couldn't help but smile at Mason calling him a young man. It almost made him feel like one again.

"Mason. Even if I had swine flu, you would have less to worry about than I, as I'm much younger than you and it affects the young more adversely," Gerard stated simply, letting the fluid Italian accent that was natural for him to drip through.

"Don't get smart with me, young man!" Mason admonished him, rapping him lightly on the head with a small paperback book before setting it beside Gerard on the table.  
"I'm just simply stating what the news says. No need to get ill, old man." Gerard cracked open the paperback he'd just been smacked with and began to read. Mason waited patiently beside him until he looked up, as if waiting for an explanation still for why Gerard looked so ill.

"I haven't slept well, Mason. It's nothing to worry about. It's just a mild case of insomnia."

The elderly man huffed, then fussed, then began to curse at Gerard for not taking care of himself better. In many ways, Mason was like the father that Gerard had lost a long time ago to war and betrayal. His father had been a general in the Italian army back in the Caesar's time and he was a much of a soldier when he was raising Gerard as when he died by his own captain's mutinous sword.

Mason continued to tut until Gerard settled into the book in his hands, and then left him alone to his reading. An hour or so passed in near silence, with only the shuffling of the book keep's feet across the wood floor and the slippery sigh of pages being turned. As the late evening transitioned into early morning, Mason dozed off into a silent slumber behind the counter. Gerard tucked the book under his arm after deciding that he'd like to add it to his collection, he tossed a few wadded up bills onto the counter next to the slumbering man. It was more than the book was worth, but at least the old man would be able to eat this week.

Gerard was about to head out of the door when he heard Mason sigh in his sleep and mumble something that sounded like he was speaking affectionately to a son. Gerard went back to the counter, gently placing his hand on the man's shoulder and shaking him out of his dreams. He hadn't wanted to wake him but he knew that if he left him here with the shop wide open, he would undoubtedly be robbed.

"Old man, wake up. Lock up and head home. I'm going to go get that sleep you keep complaining that I need so badly."

"Bout goddamn time you did, too." Mason allowed Gerard to steer him to the door, grabbing his coat from the hook by the door. Gerard waited while he locked the shop's difficult and partially rusted lock before gently shoving the wad of bills he'd deposited on the counter earlier into the man's pocket and leaving off down the street. He didn't even need to turn around to feel the shocked expression on Mason's face when he reached into his coat and felt the volume of bills he'd been given.

"It's the least I could do for all the coffee, old man." Gerard said, smiling before disappearing around the corner and into the pre-morning dew, with yet again the cursing of someone he cared about chasing him. It was an oddly delightful feeling.


End file.
